[She doesn't mean to whine, but having eaten at Emilia's table often enough, Hermione knows that what she's got simmering on the fire is abysmally bad. Nutritious, but in the sense of 'it will do'. So would wood chips in this situation.
She doesn't mean to whine, but she looks up at Emilia and waves her wooden spoon with dismay.]
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She doesn't mean to whine, but she looks up at Emilia and waves her wooden spoon with dismay.]
I'm trying my best.